The lead we camp next to last night had solidified enough for us to traverse it and avoiding another costly 'veer'. The ice was marginal and still bowed underneath our skis but it supported our weight and the sleds.

You see, one of the unique characteristics of sea ice is that it is actually quite strong even though it bends, bows and makes rolling waves. That is until its integrity gets compromised, a new crack or a hole and the whole surface can erode into water.

The thin ice became thinner and we started veering east to find a safe place to cross. Finally frustrated with not going the 'right' direction, I decided to cross the final 100' or so. I took a step out and felt the ice crumbling behind me . Now, there was no other choice but forward as my sled was now floating in open water behind me. Legs spread wide, shuffling my feet and thinking of helium balloons, I made it across.

Ryan decided (rightly) that it might not be the safest option and continued east. Once I got sorted, I followed on the opposite shore, caught up and encouraged him to cross at another questionable spot.

In the end it was a bad decision on my part. Ryan is at least 40 pounds heavier than me and that meant after a step or two he had broken through.

Later Ryan would comment, 'I just focused on using my poles to get out.'

He actually fell through twice as he, with no other choice, because he had to cross another section of thin ice.

It was a scary situation and one that could have ended a lot worse.

It took nearly an hour to get Ryan changed out of his now frozen solid boots, bibs and base layer.

Luckily it was calm and clear and we were able to ski away the anxiety of a really close call.